


When They Wake

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I married you yesterday.”</p>
<p>set within 6x08 (“A Wedding”), with absolutely no spoilers beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	When They Wake

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the bulk of this fic the week of 6x08, only then the museling was home sick for two days, and I didn’t get a chance to finish before the next episode aired.
> 
> Total fluff and sweetness of the morning-after variety, and there’s another wedding-related fic coming from me tomorrow, too. (That one’s Liz’s fault entirely.) Are we all sick of sweetness yet? I don’t even know anymore. I’ve written so much angst this season that I guess I have to make the characters smile at each other a lot to make up for it. That and I have tons of headcanon around the wedding.
> 
> Thanks to Liz, as ever, for the beta.

Blaine rises from a wonderful dream about dancing with Kurt, the sound of soft music still ringing in his ears and the feel of his touch lingering on his skin. He could chase after it and drift in that happy, imagined warmth like he has been tempted to on too many mornings over the past months, but he doesn’t want to, not today.

Something better is calling to him instead: reality.

He opens his eyes with excitement and without hesitation, blinking a little against the cool early light filtering in through the hotel room’s curtains.

There, not too far away on the crisp white sheets, is Kurt. His husband. Kurt’s hair is a floppy mess from not being styled after his shower the night before, the line of his jaw is lightly shadowed with a day’s growth of whiskers, and his cheek is red and lined from the pillow it’s resting on.

He is utterly breathtaking.

Kurt’s hand is resting on Blaine’s forearm where it is curled toward his pillow, perhaps what reminded him of a dance that is a memory from the night before and not a dream at all, and his shoulder is broad and bare above the covers.

Most striking of all, his eyes are open. They’re grey in the dim light but wide, captivated, and entirely unguarded.

He looks younger than Blaine remembers and yet so mature, so grown into himself. He looks even more himself than he’s always been, without that layer of armor he wears around himself to keep the world out, many times even Blaine.

The corners of Kurt’s eyes crinkle with a smile that doesn’t even need to reach his mouth to warm Blaine to his very core, and he flushes with surprise to realize that Kurt’s been watching him while he slept and looks so happy doing it.

Blaine is used to being the one to wake up first. He’s used to being the one who likes to watch Kurt sleep. He’s used to being the one who has to be embarrassed when he’s caught, because Kurt would look uncomfortable and tease him about being a stalker if he woke up to find Blaine etching every perfect line of his face into his memory.

But Kurt isn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable, and Blaine is the one being looked at this morning.

They’ve moved apart in the night, sprawled in this too-large king-sized bed after a day and a night of setting up a wedding that somehow turned out to be theirs and then dancing for countless hours to celebrate it. They’d barely been upright when they’d made it to the hotel, their legs sore from too much time on their feet and their heads spinning from just the right amount of champagne. They’d showered and stumbled to bed, finding each other in the middle of the vast expanse of mattress.

Blaine can still remember the heady feeling of pressing his new husband down into that mattress, their bodies grinding together in time with the deep, searching, joy-filled kisses they couldn’t stop trading. It hadn’t been anything complicated, both of them too deeply exhausted from their day to do more than to breathe each other’s air and take pleasure in the simple feel of each other’s bodies, but it had still been intense and intimate and _spectacular_ in its simplicity, and from a foot away Blaine’s breath catches with the need to be near Kurt again, to be wrapped up in arms and sated with the softness of his skin.

Drinking in Kurt in the morning light, Blaine feels the world reel around him, not in doubt but in an amazed sort of disbelief. They’re married. As right as it feels, things happened so quickly at the wedding yesterday, and he finds himself aching to anchor himself against Kurt again to make it all make sense.

But he knows how Kurt gets in the morning, cranky from too much contact when he’s pulling himself out of sleep and back together into the complicated puzzle of himself, so Blaine just smiles back, his eyelids drooping a little as Kurt’s thumb strokes gently over his forearm. This is nice, too. He can wait.

Kurt’s eyes stay on his face for another minute or two, blinking slowly as his smile grows, and then he rolls onto his side and lifts his arm in invitation. “Come here?” he asks in a voice as soft as the dawn.

An unexpected twinge in Blaine’s back reminds him of the previous day’s exertions, but he slides happily into Kurt’s arms, his breath coming out shakily as he fits himself next to him, belly to belly, his knee between Kurt’s long legs and nose just inches the way from the tip of Kurt’s. His toes curl with bone-deep pleasure he just can’t contain beneath his skin. He feels surrounded by warmth and safety, drunk on Kurt’s closeness, caught by the love in his eyes.

“Better?” Kurt asks him with a smile that’s both hopeful and doting.

Blaine’s smile wobbles happily at the concern. “Better,” he says, refusing to hide.

“Definitely.” With a contented hum, Kurt crosses the few inches between them and presses a soft, sleepy kiss to Blaine’s mouth.

It’s quiet for a moment - impossibly, heart-wrenchingly gentle, like a promise of forever all in itself - and then something deep inside Blaine catches fire. Kurt’s mouth is perfection, his strong, slender body a dream, and he’s his own amazing, enchanting, impossible man but also Blaine’s now, legally and forever.

They’re married. Somehow this isn’t a dream. They’re _married_.

Blaine cups Kurt’s face and kisses him harder. He gets to do this every morning for the rest of his life, and he isn’t going to start off halfway.

His skin tingles with the scrape of Kurt’s stubble against the palm of his hand as he uses the sharp line of Kurt’s jaw to hold him in place and kiss him, not that Kurt’s struggling, not that Kurt’s doing anything but pressing closer and sinking into him, heedless of morning breath or anything else.

Kurt’s hand on the small of Blaine’s back above the waistband of his pajama pants draws him in and wraps him close, each rise of his strong chest pressing it tight against Blaine’s.

Blaine still feels sleep-warm and clumsy, but his blood rushes and buzzes with energy. He doesn’t think of himself as a possessive person, but he feels possessive now, proudly so, thrilled to his very marrow that this man in his arms is _his_ husband, to have and to hold, proud that they both made this happen despite everything that stood in their way. It swells in his chest, pressing against his ribs like a balloon.

They made this happen. They found a way to make this their future. There isn’t anything they can’t do together.

He wants to prove it. He wants to lay Kurt out and touch every precious inch of him. He wants to let Kurt take over with that tempting grin of his and touch him in return. He wants them to melt into each other in every single way that feels best, stripping away every last bit of politeness until it’s only _them_ , joined together, finding pleasure in each other in the most personal way possible.

He wants it all, and he can have it, because Kurt is _his_ husband and wants it all with him, too.

Blaine surges up into the kiss, palming Kurt’s waist and coaxing Kurt’s mouth further open, but even as he’s tasting Kurt’s breathy moan he finds himself smiling from the giddiness rising up inside, grinning, almost laughing against Kurt’s lips instead of devouring them. He can’t help it. He _wants_ Kurt, no question of it, wants him intimately and personally, his touch and his taste and the thick heat of his cock, but he just can’t stop smiling.

“I’m a little worried that kissing me is making you laugh,” Kurt says and presses a kiss to the curved corner of Blaine’s mouth, his hands splayed wide on his back.

Blaine shakes his head. “I married you yesterday,” he says with a helpless, overwhelmed shrug. His smile bursts out of him, and he blinks back the tears that threaten to join it.

Kurt stares at him for a moment as his eyes go huge and sweetly awed. His mouth spreads in a delighted grin. “You did,” he breathes. He looks as thrilled as Blaine feels, a conspiratorial sort of joy lighting up his face.

It’s so wonderful it _hurts_ , and Blaine hugs him hard to try to relieve the pressure in his chest. He holds on to Kurt as tightly as he can, because he has to prove to himself that it’s real. It’s what he wanted for _so long_. Somehow, despite everything, it actually happened. Rings, vows, forever... it _happened_. “Oh, god, we’re married, Kurt.”

“I know,” Kurt says, stroking down his back and tucking his face against Blaine’s shoulder. He laughs a little, the sound choked and happy. “I know.”

Blaine shakes his head again, words of gratitude and wonder sticking in his throat. They were apart for so long. They barely found each other all over again and wouldn’t have if Kurt hadn’t been so bold with his feelings and Blaine hadn’t finally figured out his own.

Blaine married the love of his life yesterday, and he’s so happy he doesn’t even know how to make the feelings make sense. He’s heard people joke about marriage as a life sentence, but this is a life’s _gift_ ; it’s not the perfect happy ending he once thought marriage would be but a perfect happy _beginning_ of a complicated life he can’t wait to live with Kurt by his side.

It’s like putting rings on each other’s fingers has completed a circuit between the two of them for him, tied them together, linked them forever in a fundamental way that he has always wanted but didn’t know until now how deeply would touch him. It feels _right_ , way down into his core, to be two individuals joined together in this single unit, this union.

This is it. They figured it out.

He feels tears of elation and pride and certainty spring up behind his eyelids, but he starts to laugh again, pressing countless kisses to Kurt’s hair and cheek, trailing kiss after kiss down Kurt’s throat, licking up salt and tasting his warm skin.

He doesn’t know how to contain himself. He doesn’t want to. He just wants to be near him.

Kurt stretches his neck to the side, a shiver going through him. His fingers press deeper into Blaine’s back, clutching at him with pleasure. “Are we actually doing this now?” he asks with a wry smile in his voice. “You’re still laughing. Do you need to collect yourself a little more first?”

Blaine peppers kisses low on Kurt’s throat. “I don’t need anything but you,” he murmurs. His head might be spinning still, but he knows that much. He crowds in closer, urging Kurt onto his back.

“Lube? Condoms? A towel?” Kurt suggests breathlessly, arching up as Blaine straddles his pajama-clad thigh. “Or weren’t you thinking about that sort of thing?”

Blaine lifts his head and grins into Kurt’s lust-clouding eyes. This part is easy enough. He might not know exactly what he wants, but he does want it all with Kurt. He knows how he wants to celebrate. “Oh, I was thinking of exactly that sort of thing,” he promises, rocking his filling erection against Kurt’s hip.

Kurt’s cheeks pink with the motion. His hands settle at Blaine’s waist, and he catches his own lower lip beneath his teeth, a sure sign of his interest. “I’m very pleased to hear it.”

His weight propped on his hands framing Kurt’s shoulders, Blaine smiles down at him, his heart expanding and cracking. Kurt beams up at him, brighter and brighter until his mouth trembles, and he drags in a shuddering breath as his eyes begin to gleam.

“We got married,” Kurt whispers, and he sounds fierce and triumphant in a way that makes the giddy butterflies swooping in Blaine’s stomach settle in an instant. “You’re my _husband_ now.”

“I am,” Blaine says, the label sounding so impossibly right for all that it is still only hours old. “And you’re mine.”

Kurt nods, and Blaine kisses him, smile to smile, long and slow and deep, until their cheeks are both a little damp, their bodies are melting together, and their hearts are racing.

He pulls away and sits up on his knees, dragging his fingertips down Kurt’s chest to the flat plane of his stomach. He wants to sink down and follow that trail with his mouth, but he knows he needs to break away for a second first before they get totally lost in each other. “Let me get the supplies,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

Kurt stretches his long arms above his head, showing himself off in a leisurely stretch. “I’ll be here,” he promises.

Blaine leans down to kiss him again, another tender press of the lips. He has to. Kurt will be with him forever. It makes his heart - once so dark and lonely - soar with joy.

“I know,” he says, and he rushes to his bag to get what they need so he can get back all the more quickly to his husband, where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I am spoiler-free!


End file.
